


GOWEFOW3OJRGPO3R

by madeinchinainkorea



Category: EUTF8GYHRLKKHHBKJKML
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:02:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26053882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeinchinainkorea/pseuds/madeinchinainkorea
Kudos: 1





	GOWEFOW3OJRGPO3R

**THEIA PERDE FOUND** herself slumped into the hideously uncomfortable guest chairs strewn around the Handler's desk for only the third time that week, a groan swelling in the back of her throat. The sheer rue bubbling within Theia was almost unbearable by then ━ what on earth had she been thinking? By God, if only she'd had the guts (or the knowledge) to scrape her eardrums out, then she most certainly would've.

Of course this stupid ruddy plan of hers didn't work. Even after numerous attempts (and numerous rereads on a book on how to be extremely persuasive), everything was in-futile. Nothing ever did work. And probably nothing ever would, even if the Handler ended up dead in a ditch, or better, Theia herself. But she supposed, with dwindling enthusiasm and optimism, that it was the dedication that counted. 

Theia twiddled her thumbs together, not exactly having the nerve to look the Handler in the eye. Though realising that it was probably best to not block out whatever waffle her mother had thrown at her this time, she perked her head up slightly and met her gaze with a certain naivety draped across her eyes. 

"...now look at me, Theia." The Handler's voice faded back in, sounding overly exasperated and annoyed which only made Theia’s toes curl harder. "Darling, the world outside your precious life at the Commission is extremely dangerous for a young girl like you."

Well, that was a bit of an overstatement, Theia thought, hardly biting back the urge to explain how she was not a little girl and was thirty shitting years old despite how she acted or even looked.

"Don't you look at me like that, young lady. You may be thirty, but you are still technically fifteen. What would someone like you do if you were caught in an alley with a murderer? Fight back? Kill him?"

Theia blinked back in response, face so blank it was unreadable. The Handler did have a point, however reluctantly Theia admitted that ━ Herb from Management could probably put up a fistfight better than her, and he was _Herb_ for crying out loud!

The Handler merely scoffed and drew up a broad smile. "And really darling, your abilities are much needed here. Where would we all be without your delightful pick-me-up coffee each morning? Everyone loves you here! I'm not sure where we'd all be without that adorable little smile of yours," she gushed, tugging a manicured finger onto Theia's cheeks. "Honestly, I have no clue as to where you pull all these ideas about leaving from. A girl so fragile as yourself really should just be content with your grand life here."

After a sharp draw of breath, Theia finally spoke. “Is there really anything grand about serving you lot coffee all damn━”

"Ah-ah! Language, young lady.” The Handler snapped, wagging a condescending finger into Theia’s face, as though she was two years old again. "Now, what did we say about talking back?"

Theia painfully remarked the lecture from the month before, listing each rule the Handler had set up for her after she’d just spent the day _not_ celebrating her birthday and smoking outside with some random ladies from the Circuit room. 

”Good. I’m glad you’ve finally remembered _something_ ,” the Handler said, drumming her fingers along the stainless steel desk below her.

She drawled a sigh and frowned. “But mother! Why can't ━ no, _won’t_ ━ you just━”

” _No_.“ The dark and serious glance upon her mother’s face was no short of threatening and Theia felt a small chill of terror trail down her spine. As soon as that look appeared, it vanished only to be replaced with a smile that lay a little too wide and a little too jolly. “Darling, why don’t you make yourself useful and get me a coffee? Two sugars, you know how I like it. We could go out for lunch if you’d like. Now off you go, dearie.”

Theia’s teeth gritted against each other and swooped up from her chair, a tight smile pressing at her lips. “Yes, of course. _Mother_.” After a dismissing flourish from the Handler’s hand, Theia swept out of the room.

Theia stared down at the mess of teabags and sugar across the marble of the counter and blinked against the sudden hot prickling behind her eyes. She looked up at the ceiling and breathed slowly in and out, in and out, bringing herself back under control. She was sure not to cry over something like this ━ not even in the privacy of her own goddamn beverage making-station. The outcome was inevitable, she shouldn't have even tried. This was her _grand_ life, she reminded herself bitterly.

In a remarkable effort of self-discipline, Theia swallowed back the threat of tears and again tried to force her attention to the Handler's coffee, now overpouring and dribbling onto the counter below. But her thoughts would not obey. If only she could just set her stupid damn desk on fire for the millionth time in her painstakingly slow life, that'd show her and her stupid cup of coffee with two stupid sugars. If only the Handler hadn’t replaced her desk with a stainless steel one just for that reason.

There was so much more she craved in life other than being the lovely girl who served the workers of the Commission coffee. So much more than counting how many sugars went into some worker’s tea. So much more than what her mother had told her she was worth, or anyone else for that matter. But her determination was nothing more than her gut squelching beneath her skin at that moment, only a distant thought as Theia found herself quickly being dragged back down to her sour reality.

"Oh, fudging hell..." Theia glowered, pounding a tight fist into the worktop. More coffee only spilt out and splashed onto her hand with a spiking sizzle. ”Stupid damn thorn-in-my-side coffee-bastard _fudge,”_ Theia muttered aloud, and a passing worker gasped loudly and levelled a sharp look at her as he hobbled by. "Oh God, erm, not you! I am so, so sorry... good morning!" She called after the worker as he hurried down the hall and away from her tiny room. 

Her patience by now was tiptoeing its away along a fragile and very very thin slate of ice. If only a rock fell on her head or some sort of baseball bat or even _better_ , some sort of siren call from God that told her to just end━

"...Mr Five... yeah, that's right."

Another voice chimed in a rushed whisper. "Escaped you say? How on earth did he pull that off?"

"Dunno. According to Dot, he's done some magic stuff to get to 2100 or something... whatever the case, he's in _deep_ shit."

"Oh yeah, heard about that. Apparently the Handler has only gone and sent some damn hitmen after the man. _Shame_... anyway, I was thinking of asking Gloria out for some Italian..."

Like that, the passers-by trailed off into the distance along with their gossip. 

Suffice to say, Theia's interest was truly piqued. Over the countless years she'd spent serving the Commission, she'd heard her fair share of stories and countless rumours on the legendary 'Mr. Five'. They spoke of him as though he were the second coming of Christ and how brilliantly practised his murdering skills were, and how the old fart had managed to survive in some apocalypse a good few years into the future. Apparently, he'd even caused the Titanic to sink and because of that, he now bore an eyepatch and a hook for an arm. Theia simply took everyone's word for it ━ Mr Five truly seemed to be _something_.

Now hearing that he'd escaped (however the old guy managed to pull that off somehow) something fizzed inside of her. A spark igniting like a broken-down truck miraculously coming to life in the middle of a snowstorm, or as though a giant lightbulb had flashed above her head and was frantically screaming 'eureka!'. Or physically, the bin in the corner of the room bursting alight with a roaring fire as Theia rushed over with a pair of oven gloves and uttering 'fudge, fudge, _fudge_!' before throwing it into the sink and trying her best to dodge the flames as the water from the tap hissed the burning plastic into nothing. 

Head arising from a cloud of smoke, a gleaming smile swiped across her face. She was going to escape. That was her absolutely, completely and utterly flawless masterplan! If Mr Five could do it ━ and that old bat had to be at least one hundred years old ━ then Theia could bloody well do it too! And anyhow, there wasn't even the risk of getting hitmen sent against her. Her own mother most definitely would never kill her, of course. Right?

But Theia ignored that for now. Damn the Handler, she didn't care what she thought. This was going to be her one chance at freedom, her one chance to explore the world and do something impactful, or at least, find a nice little forest with a cottage and holiday for a few weeks or so. Or perhaps a trip to the Bahamas? She'd be back anyway if nothing were to go wrong and of course, Theia was one thousand per cent _very careful_.

Now how exactly she would pull it off was the question...


End file.
